


A Letter For Dad

by jamesnovak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, John Winchester - Freeform, Other, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 06:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamesnovak/pseuds/jamesnovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A letter from Dean to John on father's day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Letter For Dad

 

Hey dad,

I’ve never done this, written a letter to anyone apart from that time in middle school, but I never showed you; it was a silly class project that ended up wrinkled in the trashcan at the motel. I know you’re never going to read this, or even know what I have to say, but I guess I should get it over with and let it out. Wherever you are, I hope you are finally at peace, I hope you found- mum. I hope you two are together, Sam and I want to see you again someday. Hopefully not soon, Death is getting tired of seeing us too often, he even invited me for pizza once, as crazy as that sounds.

Things did not improve after you died, or even after we killed Azazel, in fact, it was just the beginning of everything; the end of the world. I wish you could see how far we’ve come, how much we learned since you left, and we suffered it all, we endured it and we made it. Together, Sam and I. I promised you I would take care of him, and God, did I try. Sometimes I feel like I failed him, but then I remember, he is the man who saved the world. Heaven and Hell, we took them all down. I didn’t have to kill my brother like you said I would if there was no way to save him; I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t because I knew there was hope for him, he could be saved… I believed in him, I knew he could overcome it and he did.

There are times I remember the look of desperation in his eyes, the way the innocence faded from them and his semblance became more and more worn out and it hurt not to be able to keep him like that little boy I had known. The little boy that used to wait by the window for you to come back after a hunt, the little boy I used to hold when there was a storm or when he had nightmares or when he was upset by things beyond my reach. I couldn’t protect him from losing that innocence. I knew he had to one day but I never knew it would hurt as much as it did; I realised in that moment, when he looked into my eyes from where he stood ready to jump into the pit that he was not little Sammy anymore, he was Sam, Sam Winchester. A hero.

Sometimes I wish I could be more like him, that I could have stood up for myself like he did with you. I was a coward, I was too submissive and foolish. I always wanted to be the perfect son you wanted, the one you could look at with pride in your eyes. It angers me that I only saw it before you died, just not exactly there. It was between pride and a kind of sadness I’ve only seen in Sam’s eyes. There are wounds that are healing, and there are others that still raw. I remember listening in the dark at night your silent prayers to God as you sat next to Sam and I; I heard how you wept in silence to not wake us up praying that this was all a nightmare and you lay next to mum. I heard your promises to her, to be a better father but, I also heard the words of hatred for yourself knowing you couldn’t keep that promise because you couldn’t give us a better life. I denied it for years, kept telling myself that you were a good dad, that this was as better as things could get. I denied the abuse you put me through because I admired you, I admired your ‘valour’, because I believed you cared and wanted us to be safe in reality you were probably just trying to run away from yourself because you couldn‘t handle your own grief, your pain, problems, your failures; you were just a coward. I denied the pain I felt when I saw the disappointment in your eyes when I failed you, it was my fault and I needed to be better, be the soldier you needed me to be. It was never enough, and you will never know, or probably did how much you harmed me. You destroyed me, dad.

I hated you. God, for a long time I felt nothing but hatred towards you, even if I never let Sam see it. I couldn’t think of you without feeling this anger, this hatred inside of me about to burst. I wanted to scream, I wanted you to be there so I could say to your face all these things, all that you did wrong, things you should have fixed before dying. I guess with time I came to understand that you did as much as your limits allowed you, I doubt it. I remember the look in your eyes sometimes, when I sit in silence next to Sam, or when he falls asleep researching for a hunt on the sofa, how you used to look at us when you thought I couldn’t see; the look in your eyes when you came home from work and you’d pick me up. Then I’d look at you and you’d turn your head, or that look would fade from your eyes, it was cold and too formal like a good soldier.

Sometimes I understood you, and sometimes I didn’t. I know now that you felt exactly how Sam and I feel, the abandonment of a father, the loss of someone you loved, the loss of your sanity and the fear of desperately wanting to protect what little you had. We met him- Henry Winchester… I wish you knew he did not abandon you but it was just a mess, something that should have never happened but it messed you up. You were not as healthy as you should have been; you never saw me awake hearing the sound of your voice from where you slept calling for mum, the never-ending nightmares, the inebriation, the repressed emotions, your obsessions driven by grief. It was all so unhealthy that I worried about you, I was only a little boy but I knew you were not okay. I hated seeing that bottle of alcohol in your hand, or the beers in the fridge. I guess it was your way of coping, and I get it. I learned it from you and it was killing me, I never truly enjoyed the taste but it numbed me, I guess you felt the same. I wish the last thought you had before dying had been about Heaven.

I never thanked you for giving up your life for me, I thought I was not worth it, but you did. I’m sorry because fate and life treated us the way it did, I’m sorry because happiness was not meant for the Winchesters. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t forgive you for a long time, you didn’t deserve it. But I think I’m healing, I’m ready to let go. It isn’t worth holding on to all this grief, this anger and ache inside me. I have things to worry about , things that are here now and I can deal with. All in all, I want to say, I know you abused Sam and I in almost everyway possible, caused me all these traumas that could have been prevented, but I know, inside, that you tried to be our father… and I forgive you.

Until we meet again, dad, I know this time you will be there for Sam and I… mum too. Happy father’s day.

 

Yours, Dean Winchester.


End file.
